tobermory's Diaryland Diary

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They eat your brain

So, one last thing about the pee. I think it�s stopped. I accidentally left the bathroom door open yesterday and Toby refrained from using it as his personal pee place (I mean � hey! That�s MY personal pee place � and Steve�s too � we just have the courtesy and aim to pee in the bowl and not everywhere else). So, taking a chance I left the door open last night as well when the Mad Pee-er usually struck, and in the morning there was no pee. Because the door has been left open the smell is dissipating too. I�m not ready to untarp the furniture or give free access to the bedroom quite yet but I think I�m over the hump. Thinking about it, it had to ultimately be a medical issue because Toby usually LOVES the litterbox. He spends some serious quality time in there post-usage thwapping the sides of the hood and shoving litter around and then he races out for a victory lap. Weird cat. If I made that kind of ungodly stink (because my poop smells like roses) I�d make it a point to get in and out as fast as I could, but hey, he doesn�t do much that he can be proud of so I guess making a prodigious stink is his claim to fame and he wants to revel in the moment.

It�s been raining almost daily and that makes it rather damp here in Chicagoland. This makes everything lush and green and my vegetables look fabulous, but it also brings out some of the unsavory things in life. See the following conversation I had with Steve when he got home late the other night:

Steve: �Did you bring in the mail?�

Me: �Yes. But relish the fact, because it�s the last time I get the mail until there�s been a frost.�

Steve: �Why?�

Me. �Earwig. In the mail. Crawled towards me. I�m sure the neighbors found it really humorous to watch me thrust the mail away from myself squealing and flailing my arms around to rid myself of any other stray earwigs that could be taking refuge on my body.�

Steve: Laughs heartily.

Earwigs are my most hated of all bugs. They have that gross shiny segmented body with the bigass pincers coming out of their ass. Shudder. In one of my Top Ten Most Horrifying Moments, an earwig shot out at me from the hairdryer I had just turned on. You know the old ad line from the Aliens movies? �In space, no-one can hear you scream.� Untrue. I�m quite sure they heard me scream all the way up in space when the earwig hit me in the face. So, laugh it up Steve-o, but you�ll be getting the mail from now until November.

Have I mentioned that I hate my neighbors? Not all of them. Bernie and Michelle are just fine (although I wish their wiener-dog Cinnamon would realize that I am not a threat and she doesn�t need to go out of her mind barking every time she sees me). Bernie and Michelle are the kind of neighbors you want � nice (Bernie gives us samples of his Chocolate creations frequently), helpful (they have a power mower and mow out front parkway for us), and concerned (they hate the scumbag people across the alley just as much as we do). They are also (except for Cinnamon) quiet neighbors. No so the three-flat next door. There is Bongo Boy - he makes and plays drums for a living. He does knock off the practicing at 10pm sharp, but it�s still irritating. His room-mate Tai Chi guy � who makes me feel guilty for disturbing his serenity when I have to garden and mow the lawn. He also smokes and I suspect it�s him that�s been flicking his butts into our yard. The Latino Family on the third floor who had the domestic disturbance that I described in an earlier entry � that�s really my only beef with them but since 911 had to be called it�s worth mentioning. The Old Volvo Guy from the second floor (he�s not old � his Volvo is) who loves his car so much that he takes up two spaces on the street. One of these people has a beeping alarm clock that goes off at 5:15 every morning. Then the fucker hits snooze and it goes off again 9 minutes later. Then instead of turning OFF the GODDAMN ALARM the fucker hits snooze again and toddles off to the shower. This means that while the fucker is lathering, rinsing and repeating his alarm is going off again. In a suburban setting this would be no big deal. But in the city, where space must be maximized, my house is a mere three feet from their house, and in the summer everyone has their windows open. I decided this morning as I listened to the beepbeepbeepbeeep(repeat) that the next time Steve and I go away I�m going to set an alarm for 2am and leave it on full volume right next to the window, that�ll teach the little fucker.

That�s all for now � I�m all worked up into a neighbor-hating lather and I can use this energy to cruise through my work and be really efficient. See ya.

10:32 a.m. - 2004-06-11

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